


There is a Place Somewhere Called Paris

by anarchycox



Series: Anarchycox's 2019 Personal Writing Challenge [3]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Heartbreak, M/M, New love, Past Relationship(s), current hartwin, different ideas of romance, past merlahad, the hartwin is more background
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-11 23:19:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17456189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchycox/pseuds/anarchycox
Summary: Harry and Merlin were once together, and Merlin still loves Harry even though Harry and Eggsy are together and marrying. But he knows he and Harry were an ill match. Harry was a true romantic and Merlin was not. Merlin just has to learn that there are all sorts of different versions of romantic. Percival would be happy to teach him that, if given the chance.





	There is a Place Somewhere Called Paris

**Author's Note:**

> This one is heartbreaking and also weird, but I sort of love how it all came together.

Harry Hart was a romantic. He was a functioning alcoholic, a fierce warrior, Arthur for the Kingsman.

And he was a romantic.

He had once, long ago, rained kisses along Merlin’s spine and promised him forever in a room filled with flowers and bottles of champagne.

In Paris, because it was the most romantic city in the world.

And Harry was a romantic.

So of course, Harry proposed to Eggsy in Paris, on a whirlwind weekend with everything that the lad and Harry deserved. They were both romantics.

Harry had wasted far too much romance on Merlin, who found it so absurd, pish posh, rubbish use of money. Harry had always laughed at Merlin’s grumblings, said he just had to learn to love it, because Harry was going to spoil him, lavish him in gifts and affection.

They had stood on a balcony, candlelight, soft music, Harry in a tuxedo when they had broken up.

In Paris.

Merlin was glad his lack of romance hadn’t ruined the city for Harry. That would have made him feel horrible.

He hated flowers; Harry had thought it a joke, he could never get the man to understand he was serious. Merlin knew they wouldn’t last, they couldn’t, but he had wanted them to, desperately.

He wasn’t a romantic.

But the whole of his heart had been Harry’s. Was still Harry's.

If you said the word Paris to Merlin these days, he gagged. It made him sick, everything he had had there, everything he lost there. In his mind he tried to erase the word, the city itself, which was rather hard, but he was a determined man and for large swaths of time he could manage it.  He packed up all the gifts that Harry had given him over their 15 years together. Ones that Harry had bitterly assumed Merlin had never kept in the first place. He put them in storage at Kingsman, felt wrong to take them to a charity shop.

When Harry had stood in front of him, after the engagement announcement had flowed through the building, Merlin was able to smile and hug him. He was utterly sincere when he offered his best wishes and that he was happy to see Harry so happy and in love.  He loved Harry enough to mean it. All he had ever wanted was for Harry to be happy. He breathed in Harry during the embrace. He had changed his aftershave. Same as Eggsy’s. They used to wear the same.

Purchased in Paris on their first anniversary.

On their 13th, Harry had asked if Merlin would have even remembered when it was if it wasn’t for Harry’s planning.  He hadn’t believed Merlin when he said he would.

Merlin had never managed to get gifts right for Harry. Either too obscure that by the time Merlin explained why he picked it, the moment of surprise was ruined, or too practical for such a romantic. He had wrapped the glasses repair kit in a ribbon, but apparently that did not count.

Eggsy was brilliant at the perfect gifts for Harry. And he wore everything that Harry gave him.

Everyone talked about them being adorable and so romantic.

Merlin wondered how many even remembered that he and Harry had been together. Eggsy had approached him one day and had clearly been worried. He found old photos of Merlin and Harry.

In Paris.

Merlin reassured the lad that it had been many years ago, and Eggsy and Harry were a far better match. He truly meant it. And Eggsy handed him an invitation personally and said how much it would mean to Harry that Merlin was there. Eggsy had given him a look that suggested he saw more than Harry had. 

But in certain things Eggsy was far more savvy than Harry.

Merlin promised not to pick a gift on his own, but from the registry. Eggsy had laughed and said yeah Harry showed me some of your ‘romantic’ gifts. Best gag ever.  That hurt and Eggsy wasn’t so savvy to notice how it dug in.

It was a beautiful wedding, everything it should be. Harry cried in happiness. Eggsy’s smile was radiant. They honeymooned in Paris, because of course. Photos sat on both their desks of them wandering streets and at the top of the Eiffel Tower.

Merlin had hated heights. It was never romantic at night to him.  For a while he was able to again avoid thinking about Paris. It was nice. And then Percival had to go on a mission there, the sort of mission where a tech would have to go along.

“No, I will only accept you,” Percival had said.

“I hate -”

“I am aware,” Percival cut him off and as Merlin looked at him he realized that the Kingsman who saw everything, saw him. He felt exposed and despised the kindness in Percival’s eyes. “But it is just a city.”

“It isn’t,” Merlin was trying to not let himself be seen, but Percival kept his gaze steady.

“Not even the only Paris,” Percival said. “There is one in America. And Legoland has a credible mock of it.”

For the first time in a decade, Merlin laughed at the thought of Paris. “Agent, why me?”

“Because I need the best beside me for this one,” Percival said and explained his need and his logic as they went over the parameters.

Merlin had to admit that it was logical he went along. But for the quartermaster to go on a mission, Arthur’s permission was needed.

Arthur looked over the file. “Will this be difficult for you?”

“No, it is delicate but straightforward.” Merlin shrugged. “I have handled worse.”

“You haven’t been to Paris since,” Harry cut himself off.

“Just a city, Arthur. No particular reason to go to it.”

“No, it was always I who liked it there.” Arthur nodded, “Permission granted.”

“Thank you sir. I have ensured that Agent Galahad is off for your six month wedding anniversary.”

“Thank you,” Harry was startled. “You never remember that sort of ‘fodderal’ as you used to call it.”

“No,” Merlin looked at him, “because I never ordered flowers you assumed I didn’t.” Merlin met his gaze. “Go away for a weekend. I’ll keep the ship afloat.”

“I’ll book us a hotel room,” Harry said. “Thank you.”

Merlin gave a nod and went to a bathroom and threw up. When he came out, Percival was in the hall. “Please,” Merlin said and Percival walked away and they pretended the moment didn’t happen. They were in Paris and Merlin felt weak. He saw Harry around every corner, memories flooded his brain.

“Would you care to wade through some shit?” Percival asked politely.

“I beg your pardon?” Merlin was pretty sure that was a question he had never been asked before and as quartermaster to the Kingsman he had been asked many odd things.

“Near as I can tell, I will have three exit strategies, and one of them is the Paris sewer system, especially if I can then make it look like I am a part of a tour. The catacombs as well. I thought if we took a few tours, it would help me plan.”

Merlin had been to Paris dozens of times and had never done those tours. He and Harry had been to Versailles and the Louvre so much. “Very well, that is logical.” 

They booked a few different public tours and Percival managed to blend in, look like an average tourist, which Merlin thought was rather impressive. “Quite romantic isn’t it?” Percival said into the silence of one tour and a couple people looked at him.

“Historical, and interesting. Not sure all these graves are that romantic,” someone said; perhaps an American, Merlin thought.

Percival shrugged. “Darkness, the mortality of man, what we build on top of ourselves, I find it a spot romantic.”

“You mean big R romantic don’t you. More the era, than chocolates and hallmark.”

“Indeed,” Percival agreed with a faint smile. “To me the grandest act of romance was Mary Shelley keeping Percy’s calcified heart on her writing desk. Perfection.”

“Freak,” someone on the tour said, and Merlin made a noise low in his throat and pressed forward a little. 

Percival just laughed a bit. “It has been said before.” The tour continued on and when they got back to the safe house they added their knowledge to their plans. 

“Do you really find that romantic?” Merlin asked as they drew the maps.

“Of course,” Percival replied. “It is stunning.”

“Not creepy?”

“I don’t mind the unexpected or even the creepy in romance.”

Merlin had honestly not thought there were ways of romance other than Harry’s, other than the expected. “If someone presented you with joint plots in a cemetery, what would you say?” Harry had been disgusted that Merlin had thought that a good tenth anniversary gift.

“Asking to be beside me for all eternity? That is a grand gesture.” Percival gave him a look. “You judge too much by one experience.”

“We are on a mission,” Merlin said sharply. “And it was the best experience, the only experience worth anything at all.”

“If it was, you’d still be with him,” Percival said.

Merlin froze. “You go too far, agent.” He debated murdering the man then and there.

Percival gave a polite not, “My apologies, Merlin.”

They did not speak another word that was not specifically mission related and when things went wrong, Merlin ran through the sewers and catacombs, carrying maps in his mind and found Percival at the point they had set as a last resort. He was rather thoroughly bleeding out. Merlin wrapped a few of the wounds tightly as he could. “The chances of you catching something vile because of whatever is airborne in the shit and the graves is statistically unacceptably high. Move agent.”

“That is the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“You need to date more, which you will do upon healing in medical,” Merlin snapped. He picked up Percival and put him over his shoulder. There was no pretending to be a part of a group, there was only getting out.

“Would you date me?”

“I do not date anymore,” Merlin said.

“If you did? Would you?”

“I am more...pragmatic than creepy. I doubt we would suit.”

“Could you like creepy?”   
  
“I could understand it better than flowers and serenades,” Merlin offered more to keep him talking. Not talking would likely mean passed out and that would be bad. “What would you consider the perfect first date? Say we were to go out.”

“What was your first date with Harry?”

“A candlelight dinner in a museum after hours,” Merlin remembered. “It was beautiful.”

“You worried about the damage and insurance payout if a fire started the whole time didn’t you?” Percival coughed and there was a splatter sound that suggested blood.

“I had my estimate within 100 pounds when I looked it up afterwards,” Merlin said. They were almost at the exit and there would be a car, and then a hospital. Percival was quiet too quiet. “What would you do on our first date?” More silence. “Answer me, agent.”

“I know a man,” Percival’s voice was thin. “Makes realistic dummies for murder mysteries. Used to work for a wax museum. Make you up a few, so you could test some of your weapons that have been deemed too weird. See what happens. Maybe a picnic among the remains.”

“I could make such spreadsheets of my analysis,” Merlin said almost dreamily. “Have an idea that was called unfeasible, but if I could just test it.”

“You are always so gorgeous when you scheme destruction,” Percival said before he passed out cold. Merlin put him in the car and drove like a demon and when he got to the hospital almost tore it apart when they wouldn’t let him follow. 

Merlin paced and promised god that if Percival died, he’d burn the whole of Paris to the ground. Fuck this city, it was the worst. No one should ever remember the city ever again. It should become forgotten, a myth at most. He paced until his legs cramped and then a bit more.  It was five hours before he heard. Percival would live. He had lost a kidney and had almost gone septic but they thought the worst was passed, though he would need to stay for several days before being moved back to England.

“Then I will stay for several days,” Merlin growled.

They allowed him back, rather terrified of the man. He sat next to Percival who looked pale, and his hair was mussed. It looked soft, inviting. But the man hated to be unkempt. Merlin wet his hands and smoothed the hair down. He then found himself holding Percival’s hand. He was told visiting hours were over, but a look had the nurse quieting and bringing him a blanket.

It was late in the night when Percival woke for the first time. Merlin fed him an ice chip and explained his medical state.

“Did they keep my kidney?”

“No, I am pretty sure the stabbed and destroyed kidney was disposed of,” Merlin explained.

“Would have put it in a jar, given it to you for Christmas.”

“That is disgusting.”

“You could have used it to test poisons.”

“Oh, that would actually be handy, human tissue to properly test on,” Merlin said. “That would be quite handy indeed. So much our work has to stay theoretical until agents are out in the field.”

Percival gave him a faint smile. “I would shower you in vital organs if you let me. Bones, and flesh, and teeth.”

“Maybe not all that,” Merlin said but felt a faint flush on his cheeks. “I’m not someone men want. Not forever.”

“You are, you just kept your eyes on the wrong man.”

“He is a good man, a great one. He makes people swoon. Eggsy is very lucky to have all that Harry offers. Harry always deserved better than me.”

“Different, not better,” Percival said. “You are romantic. Every time you tell me good hunting agent, come home to fill out your report, you are the only one who does it properly. It sounds like poetry.”

“You are insane.” But Percival had drifted back off and didn't hear it. Merlin figured the man wouldn't have argued the point if he had. He should find the promise of bone and organ romantic. He should be repulsed. But it was very sweet. To him, sweeter than all the custom made chocolate Harry had bought him. He hated chocolate.

The man clearly had issues that no one had sussed out over the years. He really shouldn’t be encouraged. But Merlin wouldn’t let go of his hand.

When they were back in England, Merlin found himself spending a lot of time in Percival’s recovery room. They talked more in that week than they had the whole time they had known each other.

Harry noticed and said to Merlin, “You don’t need to keep him company because you feel guilty about the mission going poorly. I know you don’t like to be that close to people.” 

Harry thought he was being kind, saying that, and Merlin found his heart letting go of Harry. Because Harry had loved him, but never understood him.

Harry was a romantic.

So was Merlin. And he just realized it. “Excuse me, Harry.” Merlin went home and went through boxes in the attic. It had to be there, somewhere. It had been too valuable to toss, and too weird to keep out. He found the small box and smiled. He went back to the estate and Percival was reading in bed. “Here, for you,” Merlin said and thrust out the small and very elaborate box.

Percival opened it. “Is this a toe?” It was a bone on a bed of silk. He beamed, “did you give me a toe?”

“A reliquary. Soldier from Richard the Lionheart’s crusade since the family didn’t have money for an actual saint bone.” Merlin felt awkward. “It’s yours.”

“Why yes, I will marry you,” Percival replied and Merlin felt something pop inside him, a pressure released that he had been carrying so long he had long forgotten the weight, and he began to laugh.

“Perhaps a date first,” Merlin said.

“With the fake bodies?” 

“How about dinner? Bodies feels like a third date experience. I’ll find a restaurant that is haunted.”

Percival smiled at him, and Merlin reached out and smoothed his hair.

**********************************************

“Did you hear? Harry commissioned an artist to do this portrait of Daisy for Eggsy for their anniversary, isn’t that the most romantic thing?” Merlin overheard an agent say to another. It was the talk of the whole building.

He went to his office and there was a small box on his desk. The little card on top said  _ Happy six months since I almost bled out on you in the sewers. _

Inside the box was a shell casing on a leather tie. An additional note that it was from Percival’s longest shot ever on record. And that his shot for Merlin's heart had been longer than even that, but he never did miss a shot. The shell was proof of that. Merlin slipped it over his head and put it under his jumper. The metal was cold against his heart. He liked it.

He sent a message to Percival suggesting a weekend away to Philadelphia - they were reputed to have an excellent medical oddities museum that he would take Percival to, and Merlin would enjoy all the American historical graves there. Percival sent back several heart emojis and Merlin smiled.

Merlin was a romantic, you see.

Just not the Paris sort.


End file.
